


&everything is clear

by mangemouth



Category: Gintama
Genre: Benizakura Arc, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangemouth/pseuds/mangemouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="http://antimonial.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://antimonial.livejournal.com/"></a><b>antimonial</b>, who gave me the prompts "short hair Zura" & "clear." A short introspective thing, unbeta'd and written quick and dirty.</p>
    </blockquote>





	&everything is clear

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://antimonial.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://antimonial.livejournal.com/)**antimonial** , who gave me the prompts "short hair Zura" & "clear." A short introspective thing, unbeta'd and written quick and dirty.

After it’s all over, only one thing is apparent [clear]; what was once covered up has been exposed.

The first thing to come to light is Zura’s d… Zura’s stupid asshole stunt. They haven’t talked about it – they both know it would be a pointless, angry conversation, so they elect not to have it.

The only word spoken about the whole affair comes from Zura, when he says [calmly, over the curling steam of his teacup] that the important thing is that they are both alive. Of course, Gintoki holds [privately, jammed within the cage of the demon] that the important thing is that Nizou [ _that fucking snake, that fucking, fucking -_ ] is dead.

To say anything more would be excessive, and they have always been simple men [grasping fingers, mindful of fresh wounds, both intense and gentle, say what goes unspoken].

The second reveal is the true depths of Takasugi’s madness. While it was true Gintoki hadn’t held any affection for _that bastard_ in some time, he’d never dwelled on their former friend long enough to recognize what had happened. Zura, deluding himself as usual, had thought they and the other samurai were still comrades at the very least, had even spoken with Takasugi in those brittle years after the war [but been too blind with ideals to _really see_ ].

They hadn’t [couldn’t have] known, then - but the flames in the sky [the sickly-purple sheen of that damned evil sword] has written it large enough for both of them to finally see; the Takasugi of _before_ is long gone, and what is left is a monster.

It is certain, too, that next time he crosses their path [and he _will,_ all stale flutter of bandages and throat-burning pipe smoke] – the next time, they will put the beast down.

The last reveal is a small, pale bump, and despite the importance of the other revelations, it is this stupid inch of skin that Gintoki thinks about most. That isn’t the surprising part; he doesn’t like to think about Zura being d… gone, if only for a farce, and he doesn’t like to think about Takasugi being gone and _deadly_ serious about it.

The nape of Zura’s neck, however, falls into a grey area.

To figure it out, he toys too-often with the shorn ends of Zura’s hair, runs his fingers though it [what used to take long moments now only half a second]. That’s the bad side, probably – it’s short. Zura’s dumb hair has, whether he likes it or not, been something of a _constant_ in a life marked by violence and change. Of course, he knows it’s only a physical marker [ _What image change, you’re still the same asshole -_ ] but it had meant - something. After all, he’d grown up pulling it, mocking it [pressing his nose into it, stroking it].

If the downside is the stupid hair, the upside is that maddening inch of skin. Without fail, he finds his way to that top-most bump of the smaller man’s spine, whether it be with fingers [ _Ah, what are you -_ ] or lips [ _Gintoki, stop that -_ ]. What’s always been covered by thick, inky hair is now exposed, and whether they’re tangled up in Zura’s futon or standing in line at a dango stall, Gintoki can’t help but focus on the slivers of paleness [stark, bright blades of grass against a dark sky].

Sure, Zura layers himself in fabric, hides his arms in the sleeves of his haori, but it’s a constant reminder that he _can’t_ cover everything [the Yorozuya's all too glad for the warmth of this autumn, too temperate for scarves]. Truthfully, it makes Gintoki want to uncover other things in Zura [quiet smiles hidden in the corner of his blank line of a mouth, sounds of pleasure trapped and hushed in the back of his throat].

They’re still simple men, though, so in the end Gintoki opts not to say anything about reveals [or the bone-deep shock of loss, or the snake-bite sting of betrayal, or even bittersweet _image changes_ ]. Instead, when Zura tries to escape him, all narrowing eyebrows and palms pushing just _this_ shy of hard enough, Gintoki presses biting marks to the bare, exposed neck [making everything clear].  



End file.
